


First Things First

by trascendenza



Category: Psych
Genre: Character of Color, M/M, my holiday project 2009
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-20
Updated: 2009-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-11 10:18:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trascendenza/pseuds/trascendenza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"But you know it's my elbow's recharging cradle," Shawn mumbled against Gus' left pectoral.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	First Things First

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [wistfuljane](http://trascendenza.dreamwidth.org/16629.html#wistfuljane).

Gus woke up with a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, probably caused by the knee Shawn had lodged there.

"Shawn," he groaned, trying to push Shawn off of him. Shawn slept like some kind of mutant cross between an octopus and a straight jacket; all limbs, everywhere, and each one of them glued to Gus like Gus was the whale and Shawn was the molesting sessile suspension feeder. "Get your elbow out of my ear!"

"But you know it's my elbow's recharging cradle," Shawn mumbled against Gus' left pectoral. Gus couldn't help it; he giggled. (What? His entire nipular area was highly sensitive.)

"See? You know you love it." Shawn started nibbling on Gus. "Mmmm, morning Gus."

"Let -- me -- up --" Gus said, punctuating each word with a helpless giggle, slapping at Shawn. "You know I can't fool around before I've brushed my teeth. That's just unhygienic."

"Dude," Shawn said, his head popping out from under the covers. "If I never again have to hear you say the phrase 'don't get morning breath on my penis, Shawn' it will be _too soon._"

"Dude," Gus replied, mimicking Shawn's tone, "_I_ am not going to be the first man on record diagnosed with erectile gingivitis, Shawn. That is not how I'm going to down in history. Period."

"_Fine_," Shawn said, and produced a toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste from somewhere underneath the covers, a martyred expression on his face. "I had a feeling you'd say that."

Gus took the toothbrush, granting Shawn a benevolent smile for his efforts. "Thank you."


End file.
